


The Weekness

by Aikori_Ichijouji



Series: The Ren x Kyoko Week Happy Family Buffet [2]
Category: Skip Beat!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst and Humor, Cheeky side characters, Come for the witty dialogue, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Looking for Ren who can't word properly?, Stay for the entertaining stories, We've got that, We've got that too!, We've got them all!, but what happens in them isn't, looking for a badass Kyoko?, the other AUs are fairly mundane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-05-01 17:25:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19182400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aikori_Ichijouji/pseuds/Aikori_Ichijouji
Summary: The 2019 collection of Ren & Kyoko fics for Ren/Kyoko week, July 6 - 12. It’s almost half/half canon and AU this year (insomuch as an odd number can be split in half) with my regular smattering of humor, fluff and angst.





	1. Falling in Love (is hard on the back)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It may be a story you’ve heard before. Medieval boy meets girl at a combat tournament. Boy banters with girl, girl then punches another man in the face… wait, what? AU.

The crack of splintering wood should have been deafening were his hearing not already dulled by his helmet. The next thing he knew, he had a perfect view of the cloudless sky above him as he lay on his back. His breaths came hard and fast, impeded only by the weight of armor on his chest and he could just make out the whinnying of his horse in the distance, most likely being led away by his squires.

His appreciation of the varying shades of blue that stretched out above him was cut short when his line of sight was invaded by a dusty breastplate bearing a very weather-beaten, but familiar sigil of a cockatrice. Turning his head to one side, he saw the ever-present helmet of his opponent along with their outstretched, gauntleted hand, clearly offering him assistance. It had become somewhat of a thing between them, offering a hand to the other whenever they had the honor of facing off. With a nod that he doubted even translated through the heavy headgear he wore, he reached up towards them and used their sturdy grip as they grasped each other by the forearms to get his feet under him once more.

Now standing, he adjusted his armor from where it shifted due to his fall and made a mental note of what pieces would require extra attention from the blacksmith.

“I thought I had you there with that blow to the shoulder, but you still managed to unseat me after all,” his admiring smile evident in his voice as he spoke to his diminutive, but equally armored, counterpart that still stood beside him. “Congratulations.”

They only nodded once in response before slowly making their way over to where the prizes were being presented. Having gathered his wits, he hastened after them, arriving only a few seconds after they did.

“For their outstanding skill in having bested their opponents at the joust, the victory goes to Sir Bo.”

There was a round of raucous applause and cheers all about them as the announcer gave the official tally of scores.

Clapping his gauntlet on the winning knight’s uninjured shoulder, he leaned in so that he could be heard over the crowd, “Since you have this whole reputation of mystery to maintain, I doubt I will see you at the ball this evening. I suppose we’ll meet again at the tournament next month?”

Sir Bo only nodded again.

“Excellent, I’ll be sure to train extra hard,” he grinned, then laughed. “It’s probably my turn to win again, after all.”

Patting the knight twice in farewell, he reached up to remove his helmet and waved at the crowd with a dazzling smile before leaving them to continue showering the triumphant Bo with their praises. He returned to his squires to find them feeding and brushing his horse. Once they caught sight of him, two men immediately broke away to help him out of his armor.

“Got pecked by the chicken, this time eh?”

“They fought well and were victorious,” he shrugged. “We are the top two competitors after all.”

“Still haven’t gotten a peep out of them, have ya?”

He shook his head, “Not really trying to, to be honest.”

“Their squires are just as cagey,” the man to his left remarked. “They’ll drink you under the table with plenty of sass to boot, but those Ishibashi boys are remarkably tight-lipped about their knight.”

“They most likely have their reasons for not talking or showing their face,” he gave the men a pointed look while unstrapping the bracer from his left leg. “Surely you can understand that.”

Everyone present grumbled in agreement, not quite meeting his eyes, but said nothing further. His joints popped audibly as he stretched, now free of his armor. He held up one of his pauldrons to study his reflection for a moment, getting as close to the shiny metallic surface as he could to scrutinize his hair and face.

He was mostly worried about his eyes.

Most people looked at him from afar at the tournament so it was less of a worry in that sort of venue. However, with the ball that evening, he hoped he would continue to escape notice. The eyedrops he had acquired from his apothecary back home had run out that morning. He was supposed to put two drops in each eye daily. Unfortunately, there were only two drops remaining in the tiny glass vial. Thus, one drop per eye had to suffice for the remainder of the day. They still looked fairly brown, so he was safe for now. Still, he would dress accordingly just in case.

His mother always said greens brought out his eyes.

The ball was, as always, a lavish affair filled with rich fabrics, polished porcelains and glittering, jewel-encrusted metals. And that was just the decor. The attendees were equally, if not more so, adorned. The host spared no expense and served a sumptuous meal of meats, breads and roasted vegetables. Once the quartet of musicians began to play and all attendees milled about to socialize, he made a circuit of the room, exchanging pleasantries with those nobles he recognized and quickly introduced himself to those he did not. 

Satisfied that he’d accomplished the minimum required interactions, he sequestered himself in one of the dimmer lit corners of the room. He stared absentmindedly at a nearby candelabra, swirling the last of the wine in his goblet and taking no heed of the person who quietly sidled up beside him.

“I’d extend my congratulations, Sir Ren, but it seems your victory was stolen from you today.”

At the sound of the familiar, teasing voice, one side of his mouth tilted upward and he looked away from the dancing candle flames to meet the impish, golden gaze of the woman who stood next to him in an elaborate gown of deep blue and gold with her dark hair in an expertly braided crown encircling her head.

“It would only be stealing if my opponent did not compete honorably. Seeing as they did, I have no complaints or regrets,” his crooked smile transformed into a brilliant grin. “A pleasure to see you as always, Marquess de Mogami.”

Though she did not offer it, he reached for her hand and swooped into a deep bow before placing his lips gently on the back of it. She quickly pulled away with a huff making no small show of wiping off her hand in the skirts of her dress. Ren brought his hand up to his chest in mock offense before laughing at her theatrics.

“The pleasure is all yours, I assure you,” she muttered.

“I would remind the lady that she approached  _ me _ , but I do not wish to incur her wrath.”

“A wise decision,” the Marquess smiled in satisfaction and turned to look out into the room. “It seems you continue to have such kind words for that elusive knight whenever you two compete.”

“They have done me no insult.”

She made a small noise of indignation. “That does not seem to be a requirement for many of the other competitors to disparage them.”

“Alas, I can only speak for myself and the others are free to think as they wish,” his voice lowered and he leaned closer, missing the wince on her face as he brushed against her shoulder. “And, unfortunately, what I could say about the other men is not suitable for polite company or delicate ears.”

“And you are saying that I’m one or both of those?” her eyebrow tipped upward in amused query.

“Of course not, my dear Marquess, after the incident with Sir Taira following the tournament several months ago I have since abolished the notion that you are either. I think he still walks with the occasional limp after you drove your heel into his foot,” his laugh was deep but short-lived. “I merely wish to spare anyone else who might overhear us.”

Her sigh was nearly a growl, “I’ve no use for knights.”

“And, yet, you are at almost every ball. Furthermore, you are still here talking with me.”

“You irritate me the least,” came her brusque reply. “As for my continuous attendance of these events—why are you suddenly so close to me?”

His smile was, somehow, both sheepish and taunting at the same time. “I feel as if I’m about to be privy to a grand secret, so I was not about to miss a single word.”

She groaned.

“The more time I spend travelling to tournaments, the less I have available to attend the Royal Court.”

“... I am afraid I don’t understand,” Ren admitted.

Another groan wormed its way out.

“It is the opinion of my contemporaries that I am of marriageable age and should be spending my time amongst other nobles so that I may be courted.”

Finally, he nodded in comprehension. “And you are not of a similar opinion.”

“It seems that your prowess in combat did not replace your deductive abilities after all,” her delivery was straight-faced up until a wry smile formed on her lips.

“You flatter me, Marquess.”

“Do not get used to it.”

The group of musicians playing in the opposite corner of the room had paused to welcome a minstrel to their group who invited all of the guests to pair up for a dance. Ren held out a hand to the lady at his side, inviting her to join him. Her face colored for just a moment before her lips bowed into a frown and she shook her head.

“Unless you wish to be invited by one of the other eligible bachelors here,” his smile was polite, but his eyes betrayed the ultimatum. “I believe the Earl of Koga was looking at you about as often as he was glaring at me.”

“This abhorrent coercion will not stand,” she hissed at him.

“Yes, but will it dance?”

He led her to where the other couples had congregated, pulling her along despite her reluctant steps. The first few notes of a  _ branle _ began and he chuckled at the elongated sigh of disappointment from his companion. Her left hand was held in his right as everyone stood in a circle. Side-steps to the right began, followed by equal steps to the left and, while he did pay the errant, polite compliment to the duchess that stood on his other side, his focus was mostly on the marquess.

“If you could have your choice of pairing,” he murmured so that only she would hear. “Who would it be?”

“Why, the Prince, of course.”

Ren did his best to finesse the misstep he made at her reply and continue dancing.

“Have your eyes on the throne, do you?”

“Goodness no,” she replied before turning away.

He waited anxiously for the rest of her explanation, biding his time until her steps turned her to face him again.

“He is a safe option because he is unattainable.”

“Explain,” he more mouthed it than said it before clapping his hands and turning about.

“Most other women have a number of fantastical designs on the Prince, but I prefer the reality that he will most likely be married off to some foreign princess as part of some treaty and they will live happily ever after producing the heirs required by their parents whilst dallying with their concubines in the interim.”

Ren groaned. That sounded desolately plausible and his stomach twisted into knots. Still, he pressed on.

“And this benefits you how?”

“If I declare my intentions for a man I will never be able to marry, I’ve saved myself the heartbreak of taking a chance on any other man.”

Her tone was airy and hopeful and it made him strangely sad.

“You’re doing this to avoid ever falling in love?”

She laughed, spinning around once before rejoining her hand to his.

“Oh, no, I’ve fallen in love once before,” she leaned over to whisper. “It was absolutely horrid. I do not recommend it.”

He was so bewildered by her words, his only reaction was to laugh. The dance continued around them and they participated to the extent that their hands and feet mimicked the others at the appropriate time. But, they were wholly invested in their conversation with each other and, despite the numerous other people in the room, it was as if they inhabited a realm comprised of only themselves.

“And how do you think the Prince would feel were he to know you were using him as an unwitting scapegoat?” He asked eventually.

“I met him once when we were children and he seemed nice enough,” she smiled fondly at the memory. “I doubt he would mind.”

This was definitely a story he needed to hear.

“Did you really? How did that go?”

“The King had paid a visit to the lands neighboring my father’s, I believe. We met in a glade along the stream that bordered both territories. When he told me he was a prince, I did not believe him and asked if he thought he was prince of the fey folk.”

Ren’s snicker was louder than he intended it to be. “Apologies, please continue.”

“Well, he was surprisingly accommodating to my misconception for the remainder of our meeting and we played together for some time until he announced that he had to leave,” her brow furrowed as she abruptly frowned. “It wasn’t until my mother harshly corrected me when I tried to call out to him in the market a few days later that I realized my mistake.”

The dance finally ended and they turned to one another. Her eyes looked both guarded and vulnerable, the gold glimmer that usually resided in them had dulled. While he could have left her to steep in the silence that settled between them now that there was no music or movement to fill in the background of their surprisingly honest conversation, he was nothing if not a gentleman. He smiled and offered her his arm, leading her away from the others who still milled about, ready for the next dance.

“Since you befriended His Majesty so easily as a child, I doubt you’d have any difficulty in winning him to your side now,” he said once they’d reached the corner where they had previously stood.

The Marquess narrowed wary eyes at him.

“I do not think I’ll be meeting him any time soon, so it’s really not a concern.”

He couldn’t stop the giddy chortle that escaped his mouth even if he bothered to try.

“As always, you are a delight to converse with,” he said by way of an excuse for his mirth.

Their banter was disrupted by the appearance of an intruder. A wiry male made his way over to them with the confident saunter of someone twice his size. Flipping his pale hair out of his face with a toss of his head, he directed his attention to Ren.

“I don’t know why you still insist on wasting your time with this one when more than half of everyone here would’ve happily retired to your chambers with you within the first hour of this gathering.”

“Does that number include yourself, Count Reino?” he asked with a grin. “I loathe to disappoint you, but I don’t believe you are my type. You do not seem the sort who would want a summer wedding.”

The other man spluttered for a few short moments before composing himself again.

“I was simply offering to relieve you of this unfortunate soul so that you could pursue more… fruitful endeavors.” 

Ren was about to retort with whatever witty reply his mind instantly concocted and delivered to his tongue when the Marquess shifted to stand between him and Reino. Thus, he choked on his words and could only look down at the irate woman who stood in front of him as she surveyed the other man from head to toe as if she towered a foot over him despite the opposite being true. He knew that look and he knew that stance as he had seen it a few times before. Instinctively, he took one step back to protect his feet.

“This ‘unfortunate soul’ does not like being talked about as if she is not present. Moreover, she does not appreciate people interrupting her conversations when they were clearly not invited,” her words were clipped and dripping with anger. “Now, if you would excuse us  _ Count _ Reino.”

Ren marveled at the way she said the man’s title, as if she questioned its validity and accused him of being a fraud. The fact that she could do it simply by altering her tone was admirable.

“My sincerest apologies, Marquess,” Reino’s imploring was overwrought, as was his wont. “I only wanted to inform a fellow colleague that his intention to bed you was a lost cause.”

Ren's plan was to step around her and escort the man outside so he could turn  _ him _ into a lost cause, but he stopped his advance when he saw her arm lift. In the span of time it took to inhale a breath, her hand had clenched itself into a fist and collided forcefully with the count’s nose. His first instinct was to check on her and the moment he saw her pained face and the fact that she was cupping her elbow with one hand while the other remand clenched and trembling, he swiftly ushered her out of the room and ignored the gasps and murmurs that followed behind them.

“You didn’t have to do this.”

Not knowing where to go, they ended up in the kitchens, sat upon sacks of grain while he wrapped a rag soaked in cold water around her knuckles.

“I believe those words were meant for me to say,” Ren retorted in a soft tone. “I was prepared to deal with that terrible man on my own. Now I’ll have to endure the jeering of my peers because my honor was defended by a lady.”

Her eyes snapped to his, indignant for only a moment until she caught the teasing expression on his face. She shook her head with an ungainly snort.

“He had no right to talk about you in such a manner. I’ve no use for rude people.”

“I suppose,” Ren agreed, drawing out the last syllable to buy some time before continuing. “However, what if his assumption was actually correct?”

She looked away before he could catch on to her discomposure.

“You’ve had ample opportunities to try over the past year and you have not,” she said, staring intently at her hand, which was still clasped in his. “I don’t believe you would suddenly decide to start now.”

Slowly unwrapping his hands from around hers, he let his fingers trail along the dampened cloth before fully pulling away, causing her to look up at him once more.

“I thank you, my Lady, for protecting me. I am in your debt,” he said it with far more solemnity than he’d meant to and none of the levity.

“Has anyone ever noticed that your eyes have a bit of green in them?” she asked, brushing aside his words and the heavy mood that threatened to pervade the air.

His sigh smoothly transitioned into a laugh.

“Mother often said she noticed it whenever I wore green,” he gestured to the moss-colored damask of his sleeve. “But I could never tell the difference so I had a hard time believing her.”

“Why wouldn’t you believe your own mother?”

His laugh was low and quiet. “You should hear the tales of incurable illnesses she concocts when she’s decided I’ve been away for too long and she wants me to return home for a visit.”

She smiled again, finally.

“Ah, and now that I have lifted your spirits, permit me to send them soaring by removing myself from your presence.”

Her smile only widened and she shook her head.

“You are too kind.”

“Just don’t tell anyone else,” he winked. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

A tender smile formed on his face at the sound of her giggle and he stood up to bow in farewell.

“Safe travels, Sir Ren, I suppose I shall see you again in a month.”

“You as well, Marquess,” he nodded as he straightened up. “Try not to break the nose of anyone else. At least until I’m present to witness that spectacle again.”

* * *

Everything that could go wrong, did on their way to the next tournament. The wheel of their cart stuck fast in a muddy ditch during an unexpected storm. When he went to help his squires with freeing the wheel so they could be on their way, the drenching rain leeched the dark brown pigment he’d brushed into his hair and the majority of it was now soaked into the front and back of his tunic. Additionally, his bottle of eyedrops broke during the commotion leaving behind a scant bit of liquid polluted with shards of shattered glass.

Still, he would not withdraw from the tournament. His father had bidden that he return immediately after the competition as they were expecting guests from a neighboring kingdom. It was intimated that he would be required to entertain their princess for the duration of her stay. Following that bit of news, his horse couldn’t go fast enough to get him away from the palace. 

He would just have to be creative.

“My helmet suffered a bit of a dent when it fell from trunk while we were offloading and I haven’t the coin to spare to repair it,” he lied to the officials without any hesitation. “It stays on just fine, but it’s the removal part that is a bit difficult.”

He tugged at his own helmet to demonstrate, thankful that the blacksmith — who was paid exceedingly well by his squires for his discretion — was able to create both a believable dent as well as a harness that made it nigh immovable unless you knew just how to unfasten it. With that, his story was neatly corroborated and he was allowed to compete. His usual confident strut was a bit more energetic as he happily made his way out towards the field to watch the bouts that preceded his.

The whispers among the other competitors at the lists was that the chicken was out for blood that day. It certainly seemed to be true from what he could tell. Sir Bo was trouncing their opponents with a newborn ferocity. He winced as he watched the knight’s most recent challenger take a perfectly aimed lance tip to the helmet, sending him flailing backwards atop his horse for a few seconds before he struggled to sit upright once more.

Ren’s hand touched the underside of his own helmet where the hidden harness was and hoped it would withstand a strike like that when it was his turn.

Two day’s worth of wins finally brought him head-to-head with Bo. It would’ve been a sizeable lie if he said he hadn’t eagerly awaited this opportunity. He eyed the familiar horse across the field through the slit in his visor, it’s black coat and mane freshly brushed and gleaming in the sun beneath the armor that protected it’s chest and face. Sir Bo sat atop their horse in their usual, perfectly-postured manner, awaiting the start of their first round.

It wasn’t long before his lance was placed in his hand by one of his squires and he was galloping full speed towards his opponent on the other side of the tilt. They met somewhere near the center and he only just noticed the slight trajectory change of the lance bearing down on him and managed to adjust the grip on his own to slide alongside it, guiding it to glance off his shoulder. The tip of his lance hit the left side of his opponent’s breastplate, and it shattered in a shower of wood splinters.

That was one point for him.

The second round, he was not so lucky and the tip of Sir Bo’s lance collided with his helmet, sending him sprawling backwards against his saddle. Thankful that he managed to stay seated on his horse, he pulled himself upright and shook his head to clear the jarring vibrations that still echoed through it. He turned his horse around to bring it back to the starting point with his still-intact lance in hand.

That was two points for Sir Bo.

Ren had to think hard for the next round. Would they try to go for a blow to the chest? They only needed one more point to win and that would give it to them. Plus, it’s a larger and easier target to hit. Then again, another hit to the head or a complete unhorsing would seal their victory many times over, but it was risky. What would  _ he _ do in this situation?

Unfortunately, he did not have a surplus of time to consider all of the possibilities and decided to go into it extra cautious and prepared for almost anything. He still had to even the score, after all.

Rather than crossing lances on the inside when they met each other along the tilt as he’d done before, he instead aimed his on the outside. His lance slid up the side of the other, putting him in perfect range to hit Bo’s helmet. At the same time, he used the weight of the lance to push his opponent’s lower and off to one side. He was so excited to be able to land a helmet strike, he missed Bo’s sudden course correction and they struck each other simultaneously at full force.

The air disappeared from his lungs and his horse disappeared from underneath him. He was falling backwards with very little time to brace for what was sure to be a less than graceful landing. His upper back hit the ground first, followed by his head and then his legs. A flurry of wooden shards followed his path downward, scattering over him.

Groaning, he sat up, expecting to see Sir Bo across the field, most likely dismounting from their horse before silently basking in their victory. Instead he saw no such thing. But he heard plenty.

“Sir Bo isn’t a knight at all!” someone cried out.

“They’re not even a man,” supplied another

Finally regaining his bearings, he managed to stand after much effort and awkward flailing. He staggered towards the tilt, placing a hand on it and using it to help keep him on his feet as he made his way to the other side. Drawing closer, he saw a body laying sprawled and supine on the ground just ahead of him. A helmet sat upside down more than an arm’s length reach away and long, dark brown hair spilled across the ground between said body and said helmet.

The person sat up and he got an eyeful of a face he knew only too well. Confident that he was able to support his own weight, he stepped away from the tilt and moved closer. Bracing one hand against his knee, he bent forward and offered the other to his opponent. They looked up at him, dusty and bewildered and hesitated for a moment before placing their hand in his. Once they were both standing, he proceeded to then collect their helmet, handing it off to them while they adjusted their twisted armor.

Marquess Kyoko de Mogami refused to look at him, her cheeks red with embarrassment. Ren chuckled at the whole predicament and shook his head.

“Since you so valiantly defended me at the last tournament’s ball, I believe I stated that I am in your debt. As such, I’m inclined to return the favor,” he offered, grinning behind his helmet. “Would you like for me to create a distraction?”

“Unless you can stand on your head while singing a song backwards, I doubt you’ll be able to surpass the spectacle I have made.”

He laughed again. “That was not exactly what I had in mind, but if you wish it, Marquess, I’d be happy to attempt it with one of those bawdy tavern songs.”

The Marquess narrowed her eyes at him. “And what, exactly,  _ did _ you have in mind?”

“I was going to level the playing field, as it were,” he removed his gauntlets and tapped a finger against his helmet.

“And how would that help? Everyone already knows your face.”

He shrugged, “Well, they know one of them. Actually, I misspoke, they know both of them.”

“You’re still not making any sense.”

“Do not worry, it will all become clear in a moment,” he said in a light, flippant tone. “Tell me, Marquess, what was the name of that cluster of rocks near the stream on your father’s lands again? The one with the large, flat one that towered over the others. I seem to have forgotten it.”

The helmet she had been passing nervously from one hand to the other nearly dropped when she froze at his words.

“I never told you about that.”

“You didn’t have to, because I was there.”

He’d kept her talking long enough to unfasten the harness under his chin. His hair was plastered to his head with sweat and grime, but the golden blond strands still gleamed in the sunlight when he raked a hand through them. A brand new wave of gasps erupted across the crowd, moving through the field like small explosions which were followed by the expected outbursts of shock and dismay.

Standing before them was the heir to the throne and their sovereign, Prince Kuon.

The Marquess looked around at the stunned crowd for a brief moment before her eyes finally rested on him, her lips pursed in thought.

“You owe me an explanation,” her voice was surprisingly stern for her flustered state.

“And you shall have it but, first order of business...” He grabbed her by the arm and began to move them both away from the field. “We should probably run.”

They found a small nook behind one of the stables that was not easily noticeable by passers-by. Panting from sprinting away in full armor, they leaned against the stable wall while trying to catch their breath. Having divested himself of both his helmet and gauntlets in their escape, Kuon was faring slightly better than his companion. However, despite the disheveled hair and sand-streaked face from her fall, he thought she still looked a far measure better than he did. Then again, he was probably just being biased.

“I say,” he remarked between breaths. “What a way to end our respective tournament careers”

“Ah, it’s just as well,” the Marquess dismissed, her chest still heaving. “Some stuffy Duke apparently had his eye on me and was ready to part with three-quarters of his lands just to wed me. There were supposed to be official negotiations upon my return from the tournament,” an unruly snort left her. “I doubt he’d be so smitten once word reaches him about this.”

“Is that what made you so… aggressive recently?”

Her armor clanked softly as she lifted her shoulders in resignation.

“It matters not,” she sniffed. “I’ve no use for a husband.”

He thought about her words for a few seconds, watching her lean her head against the wall and look towards the sky.

“I do not doubt it. However,  _ I _ have use for a knight.”

“I… beg your pardon?” Her eyes slid to his in an instant.

Kuon nodded to himself as he surveyed her from head to toe with a scrutinizing eye.

“Yes, one that can be assigned to my personal guard, of course.”

Kyoko removed her gauntlet and sharply slapped it against his arm before her eyes widened in horror as she realized what she had just done. And to whom.

“What in the world are you going on about?” she asked with a voice subdued by shame.

“Since you and I will, most likely, be summarily banned from any further tournaments and since you are not of the inclination to be married, I have to come up with some other way to keep you in my life.”

“But, you’re the Prince. Surely you could just order me to appear at the palace.”

“That may be true, Marquess, but I am not one to use my title wantonly to get what I want.”

She snorted again. “... says the man who rendered an entire crowd speechless just by removing his helmet.”

“I’m sure you will agree that it was an emergency situation.”

The Marquess scoffed. “Hardly.”

“Oh, so you  _ wanted _ to be placed in the stocks and jeered at while onlookers hurl spoiled foods at you? I’m sure I can still arrange for that to happen…”

“Your Highness, please!” she pleaded, her face colored with embarrassment.

“Well, all that is to say you are free to choose. Much as I would like to, I will not force you.”

She was silent for several moments.

“Were you insinuating that you would consider marrying me?”

He nodded. “It would take some convincing of my parents and their advisors, but I would’ve tried at least.”

Shaking her head, she disagreed. “But you could, most likely, have your pick of any beautiful foreign princess.”

“While that may be true, I doubt any of them know how to joust, much less how to break a man’s nose with their fist,” he reasoned with a grin. “And, even if they could, none of them would be you.”

“Your highness,  _ please _ !” she said again, turning an even deeper shade of red than before. “All of this pointless flattery is really not necessary.”

“I hadn’t known that telling the truth was considered flattery. Surely my tutors have done me a great disservice,” he feigned shock before his expression was serious once more. “I stand by what I said and I maintain that the choice is still yours. Now, I know you are eager to get back to your squires and make haste away from here before any trouble follows you and I should probably do the same. But, when you make your decision, you know where I can be found.”

* * *

Several months passed and Prince Kuon endured the company of at least two princesses in that time, much to his chagrin. However, his luck had done an about-face right around the time the second princess had packed up her gowns and departed with her family. One of his knights arrived that evening with a message, bearing a seal that took the unmistakable shape of a cockatrice. Taking the message to his quarters to peruse in private, he smiled to himself upon reading her words.

Only she would’ve come up with such an elaborate plan as this. He almost couldn’t stand to wait until she’d arrived for everything to take place.

And take place, it did. However, the details of said events were less important than the result. At least, to him, the result was everything. The result was what allowed him to promenade with her in a slow,  _ basse dance _ during the ball that celebrated the arrival of a fresh crop of nobles to the palace. Of course, not everyone knew it was her. Her long hair was now a rebellious shade of burnt orange, courtesy of the use of a few choice chemicals, but it was still braided neatly around her head. She had also done away with her title, preferring that others use ‘Lady’ if it they absolutely refused to use her given name.

But, he knew it was her. And that was all that mattered.

“When you said you wanted me to join your personal guard, this was not what I imagined,” Kyoko said, taking slow, measured steps beside her companion.

“Well, I specifically wanted someone that can both protect me and blend seamlessly into social events, that’s all,” the Prince replied matter-of-factly.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s all? Really?”

“Really,” he insisted. “It just happens to be a bonus that you also look fetching in a formal gown.”

“Why did I ever agree to do this,” Kyoko lamented, looking away from her dance partner, not quite hiding the rose hue that scattered across her cheeks.

“I seem to recall that you were the first to make contact by sending a messenger to the palace.”

“Yes, but I didn’t think you’d accept such a ridiculous request,” her eyes swooped towards the heavens before coming back to Earth. “I was hoping you would laugh at my incredulity and politely ignore me.”

His laugh was hearty, its volume unregulated and echoed joyfully in the room.

“I already said I would have done anything to keep you in my company, up to, and including, marrying you. You just went and made everything much simpler,” he said with a warm, but teasing, smile. “How could I not accept your challenge?”

“Clearly, it was because I didn’t think you were serious,” she grumbled.

“I hope you realize the truth now. I wouldn’t have accepted the challenge of just anyone. Then again, I don’t often get challenged to a trial by joust by a beautiful woman with the caveat that, should she win, she becomes my guard and, should she lose, she becomes my bride.”

“But you didn’t even win!” she somehow managed to keep the screech in her voice fairly quiet.

“Didn’t I? You’re still here with me. I consider that a win,” his smile stretched into a dangerously wide grin. “You were the one who set the terms, after all.”

She abandoned her argument with a shake of her head, knowing he was right and, most likely, not wishing to discuss the rather hastily prepared ultimatum she’d presented him all those months ago. He would continue to be thankful for her brashness, but she seemed to be unable to accept his—at times, rather profuse—gratitude.

“And whatever will you do when you’re, inevitably, forced to marry?” she asked with a teasing lilt.

His eyes lowered for a pensive moment before they looked back into hers with a glint of mischief.

“I suppose I’ll have to devise some way of evaluating the candidates.”

He paused, taking in the warily confused look of his companion. However, having spent the past two months in his constant company, she had almost achieved a type of clairvoyance when it came to his scheming thoughts. Her expression soon changed and she opened her mouth, no doubt with an admonishment ready on her lips. Of course, he beat her to it.

“A kind of tournament, perhaps.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANY OF YOU REMEMBER THAT AWESOME MOVIE, ‘A KNIGHT’S TALE’? I watched it recently with a friend and I still love it so much. Anyway, it gave me an idea for this story. I wanted it to be sorta similar but not exactly because Kyoko was better as a kickass knight rather than just a pretty face for Ren to pine after.
> 
> GLOSSARY OF HELPFUL TERMS:
> 
> branle - a type of French dance popular from the early 16th century to the present, danced by couples in either a line or a circle.
> 
> basse dance - a popular court dance in the 15th and early 16th centuries in which partners move quietly and gracefully in a slow gliding or walking motion without leaving the floor.
> 
> lists - also called the ‘list field’ but, basically, it’s the arena in which jousting and other combat tournaments took place.
> 
> tilt - the barrier used in jousting that separated the lanes that each opponent occupied when they galloped towards each other. Sometimes it was made of wood, other times it was simply some rope held up by a few posts.
> 
> I had a fun time researching all of this. Can you tell?
> 
> AUTHOR OUT!


	2. We Get Along Like a House on Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It seemed so incredible that she almost couldn’t comprehend how putting two people together -- who were perfectly likeable on their own -- was akin to starting the Apocalypse. Well, she had a few ideas, but nothing that could be substantiated.” AU

“Your segment isn’t supposed to take longer than fifteen minutes,” she heard a clearly angry female voice growl. “This program is supposed to be an interactive tour of the house, not a one man show.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to give our guests a more immersive experience before they move on to your silly little tea party,” a male voice taunted back.

“Silly little tea party?!” the female voice ground out in incredulous tones and a sharp intake of breath preceded a bellowed “HOW DARE YOU!”

The sounds soon dissolved into a discordant mixture of two voices battling one another, each trying to outdo the other in volume and ferocity.

“Don’t worry about them. They’re always like that,” the woman walking beside Chiori said in dismissal.

She had introduced herself as Kanae and proceeded to show Chiori around the historic house she’d come to as a volunteer. The house was a red brick, Federal style structure from the Regency Era that still stood proudly in a city that had sprung up all around it. The house hosted living history programs throughout the year that depended on the help and talents of volunteer performers. Chiori hadn’t performed since her involvement in a widely successful play that was locally produced years ago, but a former colleague of hers informed her of the volunteer opportunity and suggested she give it a try, even if only to do so for fun.

The audition process was fairly lax and she was only required to satisfy the house staff with her mock performance of the segment they wanted to assign to her; a scripted demonstration of tea preparation customs. She was then sent to find a dress in the costuming closet that would fit her so that she knew which one to wear the following evening for her first program.

The next evening she was greeted by Kanae who showed her where she would be stationed in the house and let her get a feel for how much space she had to move around versus how much would be occupied by the visitors. She was grateful for that, knowing that she would have to maneuver a hot kettle with boiling water from the coals in the fireplace to the table. Once she was comfortable with the room and was confident she could find her way to it on her own, they went to join the rest of the performers in the repurposed carriage house and she got her first taste of the perpetual conflict between one Kyoko Mogami and one Ren Tsuruga.

“They’re _always_ like that?” Chiori echoed.

“Well, at least, until it’s time for the program to start,” Kanae qualified with a shrug. “Then they’re absolute professionals until the end of the night. But, when we come back the next day, it’s lather, rinse, repeat.”

Chiori just nodded, she’d witnessed conflicting personalities before and decided that, if everyone else could live with it by ignoring them, so could she.

It ended up being surprisingly easy to do so. When they weren’t in the presence of the other, both of them were actually pleasant to be around. Kyoko was sweet and friendly to Chiori on her own, offering whatever advice or guidance possible if she had questions or problems. Ren, as one of the eldest performers, was almost like an older brother who helped her about as often as he teased her. It seemed so incredible that she almost couldn’t comprehend how putting two people together -- who were perfectly likeable on their own -- was akin to starting the Apocalypse.

Well, she had a few ideas, but nothing that could be substantiated. There’s more than just one reason for two people to always be at each other’s throats and and it’s not always the one most people expect.

“Are you alright?” she asked Kyoko one evening before everyone had arrived and changed into their costumes. “Is there something I can do to help?”

Kyoko was leaning against the wall in the carriage house’s hallway, her face completely red and her hair feathered wildly about her face and shoulders. She just shook her head.

“It’s fine, it’s just…” she looked down the hallway at a closed door. “ _Someone_ needs to be a little more responsible with their words.”

“Oh.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Kyoko sighed, pushing off from the wall and standing up straight. “But, thank you for the concern.”

She walked away without another word, leaving Chiori to stare after her in silence. A few moments later, Ren opened the door Kyoko had previously glared at and entered the hall to find Chiori still standing there. He gave her a sheepish smile as he approached.

“You two got into it again, huh?”

“Yea… something like that,” Ren rubbed at the back of his neck. “I won’t take back what I said, but I probably could’ve expressed it a little better. Maybe, one of these days, we’ll figure out how to properly communicate with each other.”

Chiori raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I’m not holding my breath.”

Ren laughed heartily at that.

“Some people get along like oil and water and others get along like gasoline and fire,” he leaned against the wall with a sigh and tilted his head back to look at the ceiling. “Kyoko and I are probably the latter.”

“And by ‘probably’ you mean ‘definitely,’ right?”

Ren just laughed again.

That night’s program progressed just as smoothly as the others and Chiori was happily exhausted by the time she returned to the carriage house to change out of her costume. Pulling her jeans from where they were folded on top of her purse, she patted the pockets and searched through her purse for a few minutes before she remembered she’d hidden her phone in the china cabinet in the dining room after realizing she entered the house with it by mistake. However, she knew Kyoko and Ren would be the last to leave as it was their turn to make sure all floors of the house were cleared before locking up for the night. She decided to stay in costume just in case a straggling visitor happened to catch her rushing back towards the house.

In the interest of fire safety, the staff had purchased a large number of electric candles for use during their living history programs that took place at night. They were fairly fancy ones, with fake flames that appeared to dance just as a real one would and even had pressure sensors that allowed the candles to be ‘extinguished’ by blowing on them. The rear entrance was dark, save for a number of these candles placed on the ground to prevent anyone from tripping due to sudden changes in elevation from room to room. Chiori scooped one up to help light her way through the house. Fumbling around with one hand braced against the wall, she managed to finally make it back to the dining room and quietly extract her phone from the cabinet.

She didn’t think the sound of absolute silence could echo through the halls as loudly as it did. To say nothing of the fact that the pitch black, moonless night outside only seemed to enhance the aura that surrounded her. The house was eerie when it was this dark and quiet and she wondered where her constantly bickering teammates were. Clearly, they had not finished locking the house or else she wouldn’t be able to go back inside, but the telltale sounds of their never-ending arguing was nowhere to be found. Chiori shrugged to herself and figured they must have split up to check different floors, though she hadn’t recalled hearing any footsteps other than her own.

Of course, that’s right about when she heard a scraping sound. Having nothing but silence to focus on mere moments before, her ears were especially sensitive. It sounded like the sound of metal against wood and it was coming from the study.

She gripped the candle in her hand a bit tighter and moved slowly in the direction of the sound, hoping she would find someone she recognized instead of whatever horrific scenario her overactive imagination was already concocting. As she got closer she could hear other muffled noises that she couldn’t quite discern other than to say that they sounded like hissed breathing. Upon reaching the study, she noticed the door was mostly closed, but not latched all the way shut. Chiori pushed on it with a single finger, holding out her candle to get a better view of who, or what, was inside.

And what to her wondering eyes should appear.

Kyoko was sat upon the desk in the study, the skirts of her costume awkwardly bunched in places around her waist and completely disheveled with her unraveled hair spilling down her back. One leg swung free, its stocking-clad foot long since separated from its slipper, which lay forsaken on the floor. The other was hooked behind the knee of an equally disheveled Ren, whose shirttails now draped messily over his slacks. One of his hands was braced on the desk while the other alternated between grasping at Kyoko’s hair and the back of her neck as their mouths battled for dominance over each other. Neither of them noticed Chiori, who stood frozen in the doorway at the sight of said spectacle.

The door was still slowly opening, using the remainder of the force Chiori had initially pushed into it to go just a bit further. Having met with a point of friction along the hinges, the door creaked.

Loudly.

The clandestine meeting was adjourned with an abrupt gasp from both parties who looked towards the door to find the newest addition to their band of performers standing there. Ren jumped backwards by at least half a meter while Kyoko tried her best to smooth her mussed hair and clothing. Both of them looked between each other and their intruder, trying to form an explanation but neither could find the adequate words. Chiori only smiled, her mouth tilted in a wry grin of amusement.

“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised,” she spoke, her smile widening as looks of overwhelming shame formed on the faces both guilty parties. “And, at least, you’re not arguing.”

Kyoko cleared her throat, about to speak when Chiori stopped her with a hand and a shake of her head.

“Oh, no, don’t mind me. You kids have fun.”

She tossed them a wink and blew out her candle before disappearing down the hallway.

Gasoline and fire, indeed. They needed to figure out a way to control that before they burned the entire house down.

**\- END -**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANOTHER AU YOU DIDN’T KNOW YOU NEEDED. I actually volunteered as an actor at a house museum for a few years and had the best time doing it. Sadly (or perhaps thankfully) nothing ever happened like I described in the story. We were either extremely responsible adults… or just very, very boring people.
> 
> AUTHOR OUT!


	3. A Dish Best Served at Room Temperature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To eat your words (idiom): to be forced to admit that you were wrong about something.

The bento sitting on the nearby table looked ominous. He couldn’t exactly describe how a plain black bento could look at all ominous, but something about it felt off. It was probably because he hadn’t expected it. He hadn’t received it from his manager or anyone else. In fact, his manager didn’t even stick around after ushering him into his dressing room before scurrying off somewhere.

It was just… sitting there.

With his name on it.

He wished he had a long stick to poke at it from a distance.

Alas, he was ill-equipped to touch the, presumably, offending item without coming into direct contact with it. It was right about then that he realized he was being childish about the whole thing. Cautious? Sure, but mostly childish. He shook his head to himself and approached the bento while chanting some silent motivational mantra in his head. Slowly, he lifted the lid with both hands and placed it beside the opened box.

It should come as a surprise to no one—least of all him—that there was food inside.

The usual suspects were all there; rice, pickled plum, vegetables, a boiled egg. There was one outlier in the small sealed cup of soup that was nestled into the corner next to the vegetables. It looked fresh and it smelled fine from what he could tell. For all intents and purposes, it was a perfectly normal bento.

Except it wasn’t.

Sitting primly on top of the bed of rice were characters shaped out of strips of both nori and sandwich meat—he guessed it was probably ham, judging by the color. It was quite impressive, to be honest. The strips created remarkably readable (and edible) kanji.

Of course, that wasn’t all, whoever made this bento somehow found tiny cookie cutters to use to cut bits of carrot and radish into various hiragana. He picked up one of them with chopsticks that were encased within the box to inspect it further. It was really well done. The vegetables must have been slightly steamed beforehand to make them malleable enough for the cookie cutter to cut through so perfectly, yet they were still crispy.

He investigated the cup last. It was less of a cup and more of a tiny insulated container, he realized once he’d had a chance to really look at it. Unscrewing the cap, he was hit with the nostalgic punch of a familiar scent. Chicken broth. Not just any chicken broth, but the kind that usually came in canned soups. The kind that always had a strange metallic smell to it. That was odd as he was definitely expecting some sort of miso. He peered inside and saw errant bits of carrot floating around in a murky, yellow liquid. Along with the carrots were noodles shaped like letters and he could’ve sworn his brain audibly clicked with recognition. It was alphabet soup.

What an odd choice. Well, the entire bento itself was quite odd, to say the least. He put the cup back into the bento and looked at the entire thing in befuddlement. His manager chose that moment to return to the dressing room, his phone and a scant few papers in his hand. To the man’s credit, he only needed a cursory glance of the bento and the small piece of notepaper lying beside it with Ren’s name on it to put the one thousand piece puzzle together into one coherent picture.

“I see you got Kyoko-chan’s delivery.”

“This is from Mogami-san?” Ren asked in a tiny voice, a direct contrast to the wide eyes on his face.

The manager only nodded once and went to put down the items he was holding.

“She said she would be leaving something for you,” he explained with a shrug. “I’m not entirely sure how she managed it, but she said it would be today.”

“Did she tell you anything else about it?”

Ren continued to look between the bento and his manager.

“Only that you would know what she meant by it.”

“Huh,” was all he could say in response.

The whole thing had him completely floored. Kyoko had been purposely avoiding him for days and now she sneaks onto a closed set to leave some mystery bento for him? He could only imagine how she was able to do it. For all of its garishness, that pink uniform got her into places most people wouldn’t believe. All she had to say was that she was an LME representative and the uniform did the rest of the talking for her.

Was she feeling sympathetic after the recent news broke about him? Was this some sort of peace offering? Considering the strange theme, he wasn’t entirely sure. Still, now that he knew where it came from, he was certainly not about to let it go to waste.

Though the fact that she told Yashiro that he would “know what she meant by it” left him quite confused. That meant she’d put this entire thing together to convey some sort of message to him. Well, the fact that there was some strange word theme to the bento definitely clued him in at least. He would have to think on it.

But, first, he would eat.

He started with the soup. He remembered being five years old and begging his parents to buy some after he saw another kid eating it. Indulgent as they were, they could never deny him anything and purchased about a dozen of the red and white labelled cans. He was ecstatic. It was a simple pleasure, but one that he remembered fondly. There was something enjoyable about spelling random words out with whatever letter-shaped noodles you could corral onto your spoon before eating them.

A sharp inhale at the wrong time nearly caused him to choke on the food currently in his mouth and he coughed a few times before finally swallowing, waving away Yashiro’s concerned look.

That amazingly clever woman.

The idiom was only loosely interpreted, but he still understood what she meant and she was even cocky enough to know that he would figure it out.

She was making him eat his words.

He began to eat faster, making sure to leave a little rice behind while he did so. Since she sent a message to him through food, he felt he should respond in kind. It took a bit more effort than he thought it would and he was, by no means, an artist. Still he tried his best. Handing the empty container back to his manager, he asked him to return it to Kyoko as soon as he could.

“You’re not going to wash it?”

“No, and neither are you,” he instructed, placing the bento into the other man’s hands. “This is to be returned exactly as it is. She’ll figure out why.”

* * *

Kyoko gave the box sidelong glances as it sat on the car seat beside her. Yashiro offered to drive her home that night when he arrived to return her empty bento. The man offered no explanation for why it was still dirty, only that he was instructed to give it to her just like that. She wore a sour frown on her face the entire drive home.

“He didn’t even bother to clean it out,” she grumbled quietly to herself. “I bet he just dumped the contents into the trash as soon as he opened it.”

Then again, she’d probably gone a bit too far by spelling out ‘vicious cycle’ in kanji on the rice.

Once the car came to a stop, she scooped it up along with her other belongings and bid her manager a polite goodnight before getting out. Her landlords were already preparing for bed and she took the container into the empty kitchen to wash it, her constant grumbling the soundtrack to her actions.

She would have to commend herself later for not letting out the bloodcurdling scream that stopped just behind her lips when she saw what remained inside the bento. It was a little hard to make out, but it couldn’t have been easy for him to arrange individual grains of rice into such a shape. Swallowing the scream her lips, instead, chose to curl ever so slightly into a smile. A few parts of it had come loose in transport—due in no small part to her less than careful handling—but she knew exactly what it was supposed to be. It was only one character, but the fact that he’d bothered at all to leave it there for her meant more than she could say.

Apologize.

He’d written the character for ‘apologize.’

Her first instinct was to pull out her phone and send him a message letting him know that his apology was received and accepted. However, she managed to stop herself and turned on the water faucet to begin cleaning the bento. Once it was fully cleaned and dried, she carefully put it away and went upstairs to her room.

She would stop avoiding him at least, she figured, but just writing an apology wasn’t enough. Even if it was done in a very difficult medium. Impressive, but definitely not enough.

He would have to tell her in person.

**\- END -**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AFTER THROWING OUT FOUR DIFFERENT IDEAS FOR THIS PROMPT, THIS IS THE FINAL RESULT. As someone who habitually adores preparing and eating food I was honestly surprised as to how stumped I was by this prompt. It was actually the last one I wrote because it gave me so much trouble.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you liked my silly idea.
> 
> AUTHOR OUT!


	4. Getting Into Your Good Books

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyoko is sweet. Ren is awkward. There is a lot of adorableness. There is also a lot of reading. Welcome to another AU you didn’t know you needed.

Dramatic things rarely, if ever, happened at LME Memorial Public Library and this day was no exception. Sure, things were a bit busier than they usually were seeing as it was a Saturday, but the returned books rack sat silently behind him, empty save for four books that were brought to his desk mere minutes before. Ren sat back in his chair and enjoyed the chorus of whispering children and murmuring adults throughout the building

All of his regulars were there; the young family with their infant daughter finding new bedtime stories in the children’s section, the elderly man who frequented the periodicals, and even the study groups from the nearby college were back as the new semester had begun a couple weeks prior. Everyone was there, except for one. Ren checked the date on the computer screen at his desk. It was definitely the second Saturday of the month.

As if on cue, the main entrance opened and in she walked.

He saw her every second and fourth Saturday since she first started coming to the library several months before. She had a penchant for young adult fiction, particularly those with magic, fantasy settings and female protagonists who were princesses, duchesses or some other form of nobility. Usually two hours before closing, she would rush in to return the two books she’d checked out during her last visit and spend the next hour picking two more.

Ren talked to her about as much as he did any of the other visitors. Most conversation was based on their preferences and only lasted for about three sentences’ worth of dialogue. That didn’t mean that he knew nothing about her apart from her name and favorite genre of book. There were little things, tidbits he’d picked up about everyone, really, but her in particular.

She was kind, letting her elders approach the circulation desk ahead of her — even if she had gotten there first — and even offering to help carry their books.

She was determined, in that her two-books-every-other-week habit was almost a self-imposed challenge to finish both before her next visit. He often spotted her reading the last pages of one of them while trying to blindly navigate her way through the front door.

And, of course, she had excellent taste in books. Even though her choices seemed fanciful on the surface, each book she borrowed were ones he’d either considered or had already read himself.

He liked fantasy novels too. What of it?

As such, he noticed two very different things about her during this visit. The first being that her usual smile had been replaced by a pained grimace and he had the feeling that she’d been crying. He hadn’t been around enough people to see them post-cry to be absolutely sure, but he got that impression all the same. The second thing was her books. She returned to the circulation desk in record time — less than twenty minutes — with not two, but four books that were so far away from her typical choices, they might as well have been in different hemispheres.

Adult fiction novels that looked like they were haphazardly chosen.

The titles definitely had a theme. Each of them had the words ‘lies’ or ‘betrayal’ or a combination of the two, written in bold red or yellow lettering against a dark and dismal cover design. Ren eyed her cautiously, but she refused to look at anything else except the polished wood of the desk. After scanning her library card and each of her books in complete silence, he returned the items to her with the receipt noting her due date tucked into the front cover of the book on the top of the pile. He omitted his usual spiel of how long she had until her books were due in favor of letting her depart that much sooner, saving both of them the discomfort of any further interaction. She left without her usual polite word of thanks and only nodded once before scooping the books into her arms and hurrying out into the evening.

When she returned two weeks later, he almost didn’t recognize her until he saw the books she placed on the desk. Gone were her long, inky locks; they were replaced by a much shorter style of spiky auburn hair. The change was, admittedly, drastic but it suited her. Her face was less distraught at that time but she, again, picked four more books at random and checked them out without a single word spoken to him or anyone else.

By the time two more weeks had passed, his curiosity had gotten the better of him.

“What did you think of these?” he held up the books she’d returned before scanning each one.

She just shrugged and looked off to one side.

“They were okay.”

“Just okay?” He pushed despite knowing he shouldn’t.

“I’m sure some people find them entertaining, but they just weren’t for me,” she dismissed with a shake of her head.

“Ah, I had wondered.”

“Wondered what?”

“Well, you always seemed to be a fan of young adult fiction, so I was surprised when you started checking these out.”

She shrugged again.

“Just wanted a change of pace, I guess. I figured... maybe there’s more to life than just fantasies, you know?”

He couldn’t help but notice the way her voice cracked halfway through, but he left it alone.

“Would you mind if I make a recommendation?” he carefully asked instead.

She considered for a second before nodding.

He pulled a pad of bright blue sticky notes out from a drawer and quickly scribbled down an author name and some titles and where they could be found before handing it off to her. She took it gingerly, sticking the paper to her index finger before reading what he’d written.

“It’s a good series by a fantastic YA writer that has a modern setting. There’s still a bit of fantasy with magic and old legends but the characters are just regular people like you or me,” he explained. “I’m actually about to read the last book myself, but the first two are available if you want to start with those.

“I guess it couldn’t hurt to check them out,” she said, still looking at the note and sounding a little doubtful.

She wandered off with the paper still firmly attached to her finger, returning a few minutes later with two of the books he’d listed. His grin was a mile wide when he realized she took his suggestion seriously. He happily scanned her books and card.

“You’ll have to tell me what you think when you bring these back,” he gave the books to her. “I hope you’ll like them.”

“Me too,” she actually sounded hopeful. 

* * *

She burst through the doors one week later and two hours earlier than her normal time and only just stopped herself from running to the circulation desk when she realized he was busy attending to another visitor. Naturally, he was surprised to see her break her regular schedule and immediately worried that she disliked his recommendation. His surreptitious glances showed her impatience manifest as small hops from one foot to the other. Was she that eager to exchange her books? Did she really end up hating them after all?

Once it was her turn, she nearly slammed her two books on the desk before slowing their descent just enough to have them land with a quiet thud.

“Please, _please_ tell me you finished the last book because I need the rest of this series _right now_.”

His laugh was soft and awash with relief. He took the books from her hands to scan them.

“You liked them that much, huh?”

“The first book was so _amazing_!” her eyes were alight with something he’d never seen before. “I mean the characters, the magic, the mystery, that whole bit with finding out someone wasn’t who everyone thought they were. Then again, nothing was what anyone assumed it was, really. I had so many questions, I was forced to start the second book the same night just so I could find out what happened next.”

“I think the second book is still my favorite,” he admitted. “It was like an entire meal where the others were just snacks.”

“Oh my gosh, I know exactly what you mean. There was so much character development that I didn’t even know I needed,” she gushed, her hands flailed back and forth to emphasize her reaction. “These books are incredible, Ren. I have to read the rest.”

He paused. She raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“One good book recommendation and we’re already on a first name basis,” he joked.

“I-I’m sorry,” her apology seemed almost reflexive.

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I was only kidding,” he reassured her. “We’ve just always communicated without a need for names before.”

“My name’s Kyoko,” she offered.

“I know.”

He pointed at his computer monitor with a playful smile. Her face colored in embarrassment and that only seemed to encourage his smile to stretch wider. Ren contemplated prolonging her awkwardness if only to see what she would do. His politeness won out in the end.

“Well, you’re in luck because I just finished the fourth book last night and brought it back today.”

The book in question sat on the return shelf behind him and he gestured to it, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. Kyoko followed it with her eyes to rest on the book where the title on its spine was clearly visible standing between its other brethren. The happy sigh of relief that escaped from her lips sounded almost musical to him. He found himself unable to describe how it felt to see her smiling again.

“Oh,” her voice was light and breathy. “Did you like it?”

“It was the perfect ending to the series. I wish I could tell you more, but I don’t want to spoil it.”

“I’m going to get book three then,” she chirped, placing her library card on the desk before vanishing into the stacks in search of her prize.

Pulling the book from the shelf behind him, he placed her card on top of it to wait for her return. The appearance of several patrons needing help created enough of a distraction that it seemed like she almost materialized at the desk without him noticing. She was bouncing up and down, clearly eager to check out her books and whisk them away so she could continue her literary adventure. Excitement coursed through her and he wondered if he’d get a contact high should their fingers happen to touch.

He didn’t have to wonder for much longer.

Her hands brushed his when taking the books from his grasp, now that they were officially hers for the next thirty days. It probably wasn’t the first time they’d had some sort of physical contact. It most likely wasn’t even the second. Still, Ren couldn’t remember any of those times making him feel as if all he wanted was to keep experiencing this sensation for the rest of his life. Was it her sheer exuberance or the fact that they had bonded so quickly over a story?

Kyoko was gone before he could contemplate any further. Her thanks had been drowned out by the screaming thoughts in his head, but her smile was a lighthouse beacon breaking through the thick fog. Thankfully, he was too far gone to feel any sort of embarrassment about whatever odd response he probably gave her.

Well, he had at least another week to figure out how to form words around her once more.

Then again, a week was a surprisingly short amount of time when one is trying to reconcile the fact that their mind and soul had been thrown to chaos. Unfortunately for Ren, he did not have a week. She appeared on Thursday, three hours before closing. The last book in the series was in her hand and she waved it at him while approaching the desk.

“I got so wrapped up in reading this on the train, I missed my stop. By the time I realized, I was closer to here than my apartment. I’m just gonna go over there and keep reading, if you don’t mind.”

She pointed to the corner where a grouping of armchairs had been arranged as a reading area. Still in the process of trying to string at least three words together, Ren could only nod.

He really needed to work on that.

The next two hours were spent training his eyes to stop wandering over to where Kyoko sat, wholly absorbed in her book, her legs curled underneath her body and her head pressed against the high, winged back of the chair. There were only about four other people in the library and they all wandered out within the last hour. She stayed where she was, oblivious to her surroundings and the passage of time.

Ten minutes before closing, he finally worked up the courage to walk over to her. Upon noticing a shadow looming over the opened pages before her, she looked up at him. It appeared like she was on the last few pages. Once he got a good look at her face, he took one step backwards.

“Are you closing?” she asked, wiping at her wet eyes.

“Almost. Are you okay?”

“Fine. I’m fine,” her words were less believable when her voice was so sorrowful. “I knew it had to happen in the end like this, but I still wasn’t prepared. How long do I have?”

“A few more minutes.” He kept his voice gentle, realizing exactly where she’d reached in the book.

“I can probably finish by then,” she nodded. “Thanks.”

Understanding her need to see the story through to the end, he walked away without another word and let her keep reading.

The doors were locked and half of the lights had been turned off by the time she closed the book with a sigh and got up from the chair. Ren had just come back from making sure the study rooms were empty when he spotted her.

“So, what did you think?”

“I think I need to let you recommend more books for me,” she smiled, her face still showing evidence of the books effect on her. “You were absolutely right. I couldn’t have imagined a more perfect ending. Still, I wish there was more.”

“I know exactly what you mean. It was a nice world to be a part of for a bit, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” she said, still sounding awestruck. “I feel like the only thing I want to do now is either start again from the beginning or have someone else read the series just so I can talk to them about it.”

His brain was screeching at him that this was his chance.

“I don’t know if I qualify since I finished it before you did, but there’s a coffee shop about a block from here that we can go to if you want to… you know… unpack everything,” he finished with an awkwardness he didn’t even know he possessed.

Had he just asked her on a date?

He’d just asked her on a date. Of a sort. More of an impromptu meeting, really. It was only a coincidence that food and coffee also happened to be served at said meeting place.

The amount of mental gymnastics he went through to justify his spontaneity was seriously astonishing. But, it did the trick to at least stop the sound of his heart from pounding through his eardrums.

“Unpacking,” she let out a half-giggle. “That’s quite a way of phrasing it.”

“It was the best I could come up with,” he shrugged self-consciously. “You’d think being surrounded by this many books would’ve made me more eloquent. Unfortunately, learning by osmosis is not possible yet.”

She laughed again.

“Well, Ren, I’d love to take you up on your offer.”

“But?” he asked cautiously.

“No buts,” she shook her head, confused. “Why would you think there was a ‘but’?”

He was at a loss for a reason. “I’ve no idea.”

“Then I think I’ll let you finish up here and I’ll wheel the emotional baggage this book has left me with over to that coffee shop and you can meet me there so we can ‘unpack,’” her smile teased him unabashedly and he didn’t hate it one bit.

He couldn’t help but grin, despite her obviously poking fun at his choice of wording.

“I’ll see you there, Kyoko.”

**-END-**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LIBRARIES MAKE PRETTY GREAT AUs TOO! Basically, after living in my town for 3 years, I only recently decided to visit the local library. I probably should have done this sooner. Who knew it would be such an inspirational place? Probably everyone else but me.
> 
> AUTHOR OUT!


	5. A Certain Kind of Sadness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren has professional-grade skills in brooding, much to the chagrin of Yashiro’s eardrums… and those of anyone else who happens to be caught in the area of effect.

The scene before him wasn’t one with which he was unfamiliar. He’d seen him like this at least once before; quiet and pensive with earbuds tucked firmly into his ears. This time however, it was not in a dressing room. Instead, he was curled up on the tiny couch in the corner of his office. His legs were tucked up almost to his chest and he was balancing a script on his knees. He was only half looking at the script, it seemed, because his mind was clearly in another solar system.

Yashiro frowned a little, looking at the tall actor as he tried to make himself as small as possible on a piece of furniture that he would, normally, be overpowering with his sheer size. He had half a mind to ask what was bothering him, but he was fairly certain he already knew the answer. Because, what else could it be? Who else could it be?

He’d already started acting strangely from the moment she stopped responding to his messages and calls. Then the whole business with the tabloids made it all worse. Yashiro watched as the man slowly became quieter and quieter each day, retreating into himself.

Now, he had retreated into the corner of his office with a script and music and he was… humming. Humming in such a way that it could only be described as ‘vaguely recognizable as any semblance of a song.’

Ren’s lack of singing ability was already known to him and he shrugged it off as he normally did. His attention was, instead, commandeered by the chime from his phone. It was a reminder that he was to meet up with Kyoko to discuss some offers that she had recently received. Knowing her preference to stay away from Ren, he agreed to meet with her elsewhere in the LME building and leave the man in question behind. Gathering the stack of papers he’d set aside for her on his desk, he made his way out of the office, but not before mouthing to the sullen actor on his couch that he was leaving for a meeting.

Ren didn’t even bother to courteously nod in acknowledgement. He really was out of it.

He closed the door behind him, the sounds of Ren’s discordant humming still barely audible through the door. When he noticed Kyoko only a few steps away, he nearly jumped out of fright. He had not expected her to come to him.

“Ah, Kyoko-chan, I thought I was supposed to meet you downstairs.”

“Oh, I happened to be nearby so I decided to find you here,” she explained. “Could we use your office?”

“We should probably go somewhere different for our meeting,” he pointed his chin towards his office door. “That guy is in there and I respect that you’re trying to keep your distance right now.”

Her mouth rounded into a small circle upon understanding his words.

“I appreciate the warning, Yashiro-san,” she nodded. “We can always use the LoveMe room.”

“That’ll be fine, I—”

His words were cut short by a sound made by neither of the two people currently engaged in conversation. To be fair, it was less of a sound and more of an unholy caterwauling. Calling it a sound would be a disservice to everything else more pleasant to the ears that fell under the same category. The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention like it was a surprise military inspection.

“BUT YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO CUT ME OFF. MAKE OUT LIKE IT NEVER HAPPENED AND THAT WE WERE NOTHING.”

“Oh dear me he’s singing,” Yashiro groaned and his palm found his face with astonishing speed. “At the top of his lungs, no less.”

“AND I DON’T EVEN NEED YOUR LOVE, BUT YOU TREAT ME LIKE A STRANGER AND THAT FEELS SO ROUGH.”

Yashiro didn’t think he was capable of cringing any harder, but it appeared he underestimated the extent of his empathy. His lips were pulled back in an embarrassed grimace, and his shoulders were up around his ears. At least he was singing in English, for whatever that was worth. Of course, he realized, Kyoko also knew enough of the language to probably understand him. He looked over at the young woman whose face was equally shocked.

“I know that song,” she said in a quiet voice. “Or, at least, I think I do. It was really popular a while ago.”

“I don’t think I recognize it,” the manager admitted. “Then again, his dreadful butchering of the melody isn’t helping.”

Kyoko’s eyes narrowed and she nodded her head a few times as she listened.

“That is definitely the song I’m thinking of, but that’s a break-up song,” her nose wrinkled and her lips puckered while she thought aloud. “Yashiro-san, why would he be listening to a song like that?”

Yashiro’s eyebrows did that thing they always did when either of his charges said something so completely ridiculous that his brain had to do a hard reset just to get back on track. On top of all of that, the awful soundtrack of Ren’s singing still continued in the background, pecking away at his patience.

He sighed a long-suffering sigh, “Why do you think?”

A deep furrow formed on Kyoko’s brow as he watched her process his words. A fervent hope pervaded his entire being that she would figure it out.

“Well, as far as I know, he’s not really seeing anyone so, could it be that someone he has feelings for is angry with him and he thinks whatever relationship they could have, or had, is ruined?”

“That is, honestly, very astute and observant of you, Kyoko.”

Yashiro wondered when the young woman had become so aware of Ren. Usually, they remained prisoners of their own personal brands of obliviousness. His hope further blossomed and he couldn’t help but cling to it like a liferaft.

“Do you have any ideas as to who it could be?” he pressed with the most innocent voice he could muster.

The way her face crumpled and cycled between shame, confusion and thoughtfulness left him just as bewildered as she seemed to be. Suddenly her face went completely blank, as if her features were those of a mannequin instead of a human. She gave her head a decisive shake and looked at him with empty eyes.

“No, I do not.”

He looked away, only to look back at her once more just to confirm that he hadn’t hallucinated that. What on Earth was with that reaction? Did she know, but was blatantly in denial? It seemed possible, but he found it hard to believe.

“Kyoko… do you think that this is because of you?”

The deep frown that immediately cut into her face told him that was the wrong question to ask.

“Absolutely _not_ , Yashiro-san. As if I would ever dare to think I was important enough that he’d—” the tirade began to spill out of her mouth before she could stop it but, eventually, she gained control.

Kyoko closed her eyes and took a deep breath, opening them upon a soft exhale.

“I mean to say, that it’s unnecessarily vain to assume that I am, in any way, accountable for whatever that mess is in there that sounds like a dying whale,” she then drew herself up, standing with an affected primness he hadn’t seen since Dark Moon. “Now, let’s go have our meeting while we still have time and before both of our schedules catch up with us.”

As he watched her spin precisely on her heels and start walking away from him, he only just resisted the urge to ram his head repeatedly into the wall beside him and followed behind her.

Oh well. Two steps forward, five steps back.

**-END-**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT’S LIKE A SPIRITUAL SUCCESSOR TO SING ALONG WITH ME (from last year’s RxK week). Only it’s been brought up to speed with current events. Ren still can’t sing and, honestly, the concept amused me to no end to the point that I continue to write stories about it.
> 
> Fun Fact: Somebody I Used To Know actually ranked #10 on the music charts in Japan at one point. At least, that's what Wikipedia tells me.
> 
> This is legit pure crack as far as I’m concerned but I laughed so hard while writing it I couldn’t bring myself to care.
> 
> AUTHOR OUT!


	6. The Lunch Break Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When our beloved group of favorite characters get together for lunch, shenanigans ensue. Shenanigans that involve a lot of giggling, monetary wagers and one irate president.

_“She’s simpering at him from across the room, giving a tiny wave. The only way she could possibly be any more coquettish is if she started batting her eyes at him— Oh, wait, I spoke too soon. There we go ladies, one pair of perfectly mascara-ed batting eyelashes. Absolutely disgusting. Just look at that demure smile she has. It’s almost predatory.”_

There was a chorus of muffled snickers surrounding the narrator as she took a break only to shove another clump of rice into her mouth. With only a few quick chews, she swallowed and continued. Her mother would’ve warned her that was a choking hazard, but her audience was more invested in the continuation of her antics.

_“A sickening blush blooms across his face as he catches her staring at him. He smiles timidly in return because he’s too much a of a damned coward to just go over there and talk to her like a normal person. Pretty sure, at this point, his brain is about to liquify and escape through his nose judging by the way he’s pining over there. Seriously, these two idiots have been flirting by looks and gestures alone for the last fifteen minutes. This is as bad as a goddamned Kawagoe Michika drama, complete with terrible acting and overdone expressions.”_

The snickers turned into muted guffaws, hands pounded against the cafeteria table or clutched at stomachs as her audience of two doubled over in mirth.

 _“And, now, she’s taking out her compact to check her makeup and pretend she’s powdering her face so she can shoot him glances from over the mirror. For the love of all that is sacred, woman, you already have two kilos of makeup on that face already. Do you really need MORE?! I don’t know who else you’re trying to impress here, he’s already looking at you, for crying out loud. Oh, honey, don’t you_ **_dare_ ** _put on any more lipstick. Please. The minute either one of you gets the nerve to kiss the other, you’ll both look like you made out with a circus clown.”_

Her audience’s hands were scrambling to pick up the napkins that sat by their plates to dab at their eyes as their quiet laughter turned into a mixture of giggles and amused sobs.

_“Alright, everyone, the bets are now open. He’s getting up to slowly make his way over to her table. What are the chances he can properly string at least three words together to talk to her? Judging by the way he’s nervously shaking more than a dish of gelatin, I’m thinking odds are three-to-one that all he’ll manage to get out of his mouth is a strangled whine. Come on, 100 yen is the smallest wager I’ll accept.”_

“1000 yen says he blurts out some horrible, hackneyed phrase,” a voice to her left speculated aloud.

“300 yen says he’ll pull a rose out from somewhere and offer it to her,” another one chortled from her right.

“Wait, what’s wrong with roses?”

A male voice interrupted the conversation and Chiori, Kanae and Kyoko looked up to find both Ren and his manager pulling out chairs to sit at their table.

“What, indeed, is wrong with roses, Kyoko?” Kanae turned to look at her friend. “I thought you _liked_ roses.”

She then looked pointedly at the taller man strategically sitting next to Kyoko at the table who, in turn, tried to look everywhere else. The woman in question also looked at him, then back at her friend.

“I… that—that’s different!” she stumbled over her words while her face resembled a ripened cherry. “I was entrusted with the care of something very important and a precious gift was bestowed upon me for my efforts. That’s all.”

Thus erupted the quietest bedlam ever at the table. Chiori, who took upon herself the mantle of ersatz comedic narrator, muffled a series of coughs behind her hand as she choked on her rice; her mother had been, unfortunately, right about that. Kanae dropped her chopsticks, letting them clatter onto her plate. Ren shut his eyes as tightly as they would go before putting both hands over his face and letting his elbows drop to the table. Yashiro, seated at the end of the table, let out a single undignified snort and shook his head.

“Mou, I thought you adored all that romantic fairytale stuff.”

“Oh, I do adore fairytales. I do,” she was quick to defend before her voice got quieter. “It’s just the romantic parts that are… really not for me.”

Everyone but Kyoko looked at Ren who, still, refused to meet the eyes of anyone else at that table. His manager’s glare especially was just short of a neon sign flashing the words ‘I hope you’re taking notes’. However, his ignorance wasn’t entirely deliberate as he was also lost in thought at that moment. His brain had decided to pull up a full color slideshow of his memories from Guam. Suddenly, her strange reaction to his suggestion of ‘true love’s kiss’ breaking whatever curse his desperate imagination concocted made a lot more sense.

He would definitely have to alter his plans for White Day.

“B-besides, even _I_ know that giving roses is horribly cliche,” Kyoko added. “I mean, I like them but they’re not my most favorite flowers.”

Yashiro finally gave in to his curiosity and asked.

“So what _are_ your favorite flowers?”

“Oh, I really like ones that have a more wild and exotic look to them like dewdrops or orchids. I’m particularly fond of moth orch… ids.”

She started out with such gusto, practically gushing, when her mood was immediately derailed. Three of the other people at the table recognized it for what it was; she’d been consumed, yet again, by an unpleasant memory. Two out of that three vaguely remembered an abundance of that exact flower in a certain Valentine’s Day bouquet that dripped with pearls and crystals. And, one out of that two held the sleeve of his opposite arm in a one-handed death grip for several seconds before he noticed what he was doing and immediately released it.

Thankfully, no one prodded any further as they were all apparently aware enough to read Kyoko’s mood and give whatever landmine they were approaching—whether they knew the details of it or not—a wide berth. An itchy, awkward silence prevailed. Chiori, having taken another bite of food, made sure to chew it the minimum required number of times before swallowing. She then cleared her throat and resumed her narrative of the two unnamed LME employees they’d been observing earlier.

“ _Anyway, whatever he said managed to get him an invitation to sit with her. The other, tittering females that were with her must’ve scattered like cockroaches when you turn on the light in a room. I’m guessing they’re giving this insipid pair some space to babble barely coherent platitudes at each other. Look at these two mental hospital patients grinning at each other. He probably doesn’t even see the streak of lipstick across her teeth._

And, with that, the jovial mood returned to the table. A surplus of laughter filled the air, the deeper tones of the newest addition to her audience was creating a pleasantly layered melody.

_“Are they sighing at each other? They’re definitely sighing. I think my lunch is about to come back up.”_

The laughs stopped abruptly and she could hear the sound of clearing throats, chairs scooting along the ground and various other attempts to regain composure.

“Chiori-chan,” someone hissed quietly, tapping a finger urgently on her arm.

_“This has to be the most banal meet-cute I have ever had the displeasure of witnessing. It’s like we’re the background characters in some terrible shoujo manga.”_

“Amamiya-san,” a deeper voice whispered cautiously in a low tone.

_“I’m half expecting cherry blossom petals to explode out of nowhere and rain down right about now. That would pretty much complete the collection of awful we have going on here.”_

“AMAMIYA CHIORI-KUN,” boomed a loud, angry voice from beside her. “What on _Earth_ do you think you are doing?”

She turned then to see the president of LME looming over their table, hands resting tensely on his hips. He was dressed as a _Carnevale di Venezia_ reveler, complete with cloak, mask and tricorn hat. The loudly colored feathers on said hat trembled with his fury and his mask was pulled aside, revealing his enraged expression. The atmosphere around the table darkened considerably and the air suddenly felt stifling. Chiori shifted uncomfortably, quietly placing her chopsticks down on her napkin.

“Um,” she began in a tiny voice. “Telling a story?”

“Oh, then you will have no problem writing a thirty page essay on the societal and developmental benefits of romantic relationships in adults _with_ cited sources by the end of the week, will you?”

“N-no, sir,” she replied, shamefaced.

“As for you two ladies,” Lory jabbed a finger at Kyoko and Kanae who winced at the motion. “I will come up with a suitable punishment for your complicity at a later time.”

Their shoulders collectively sank under the weight of impending doom.

“And I honestly expected better from you, of all people, Ren,” Lory chided him last.

The actor had turned to the side in a failed attempt to shield Kyoko from the president’s line of sight. A sigh escaped his lips before he could stop it and he looked up at Lory, dismay evident on his face.

“I only just got here, Boss, I swear!” he defended in desperation.

“You’re an awful liar for such an accomplished actor,” the president sneered. “Yashiro-san is sitting beside you with his phone and planner out like he’s been here for a while.”

“—I’m sorry, what?” the manager looked up from the page he was furiously scribbling on with a confused expression. “Did someone need something?”

“You are fine, Yashiro-san. Apologies for bothering you,” Lory assured, then looked back at Ren with a glare. “You, on the other hand, are _very_ lucky you’re too busy for me to designate a punishment for you. But, mark my words, this will not be forgotten.”

“Yes, sir,” Ren frowned.

The president left the table with an indignant flounce, his cloak swirling behind him. Five pairs of eyes watched with mixed expressions of wonder and horror. Once he was far enough out of earshot, four of those pairs turned on one person and glared disapprovingly. The one under scrutiny looked around innocently at the others who watched him.

“What?” he asked finally.

“For the only one at this table who’s _not_ an actor, you pulled off that ruse a little too well,” Ren said, narrowing his eyes at him. “You know we only just sat here less than five minutes ago.”

Yukihito Yashiro shrugged in a manner reminiscent of his charge and gave the others a lopsided grin, “Just because I can’t do it for the cameras, doesn’t mean I haven’t had plenty of practice.”

 

**\- END -**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT’S LIKE A CHARACTER GRAB BAG UP IN HERE. It’s basically a story chock full of all of my favorite things; Chiori being hilariously judgemental, Kanae calling people out, Ren vacillating between being embarrassed and jealous, cosplaying Lory, and Yashiro letting his sass flag fly. I was also rereading certain parts of the manga recently and realized that none of the flowers in Sho’s bouquet were roses and he said that it was full of the things Kyoko likes. So I was like “huh… interesting” and it kinda snowballed from there.
> 
> Truth be told, I wrote this over a year ago and never posted it, but I fixed it up a bit and added to it so I could use it for this prompt. Waste not, want not!
> 
> AUTHOR OUT!


	7. Cursed Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He stayed with her because what he was didn’t seem to affect her. But perhaps it did, just not in the way either of them intended. AU.

The text message read “SOS,” but it was followed by a smiling emoticon and an address, thus indicating it was less of a dire emergency and more of a selfish demand for help. Well, that’s what it usually was when she sent him messages like those. It wasn’t the first time he’d received such a message from his housemate since they’d moved in together a year prior and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Because, in all honesty, he knew she often relied on him to help her out. Mostly because he was always available as he never left the apartment save for the rare errand that absolutely required his physical presence.

And, because there was one thing that only he could do.

He found her in a trendy upscale bar not far from their place, sitting awkwardly in a corner while the man sitting beside her drew ever closer while speaking. The covert squirming he noticed gave away her unease. It was low on his list of favorite things to do, but he knew he had to act. Drawing in a deep breath, he reached up and removed the completely-inappropriate-for-nighttime sunglasses he wore and pushed back the hood of the sweatshirt he hastily threw on before leaving the apartment.

It took less than a second for it to work. And, to think, he hadn’t even spared a moment to look at—much less touch—his wayward hair, nor could he recall if he’d washed his face that day.

First it was the whispers of admiration, they were always the same; who was that unfairly handsome man with the intriguing dark eyes and even darker hair? Then came the subtle movements to get closer, which were then proceeded by blatant following behind him as he walked towards the table in the corner. By the time he made it there, he was surrounded by a small crowd of at least twenty people—comprised of both patrons and staff—who ardently eyed him up and down while trying desperately to get his attention. Despite the obvious discomfort they were clearly causing him, he held out his hand to the woman who was still sitting, but who looked up at him with all the gratitude her eyes could muster.

“How about we get out of here and go back to my place?” He said it with a straight face and a low voice.

It was a corny line, he knew that well enough. However, she’d asked him to come get her despite his preference to stay away from people in general. He was doing her a favor  at his expense and, thus, she would just have to put up with the corniness. Her fight to refrain from rolling her eyes did not escape him and he grinned. Still, she reached out and placed her hand in his, getting up from her seat and completely disregarding the man who was stunned into silence beside her and the shocked (but mostly envious) gasps of the men and women who had gathered around the table. Squeezing quickly past a number of people, they walked out of the bar, each still holding the other’s hand.

“I thought you were just supposed to be getting a drink with Kanae,” he said, once they were a block away. “What happened?”

She sighed.

“She got an emergency call from work and had to leave and I wanted to finish my drink before I came home.”

“And you couldn’t have just, I don’t know, told that guy you weren’t interested and asked him to leave you alone?” He suggested. “You could’ve moved from the table to sit at the bar and asked the bartender to look out for you. It’s not an uncommon request.”

“I know,” she relented. “I know, I just… panicked, I guess.”

“You also know how much I hate doing this.”

“I do, I swear!” she defended, sighing again in resignation. “I’m sorry, maybe I do rely on you too much.”

“Like that time you were in the mall?”

“I went to buy _one_ bottle of perfume and they were almost militant about trying to sell me an entire cosmetics set.”

“And that time at the passport office?”

“That lady was being unnecessarily difficult about processing my paperwork,” she huffed. “Not to mention the extreme rudeness and the waste of my lunch hour. Not all of us are lucky enough to work from home like you, you know.”

“What about the time when you—”

“Alright, I get it,” she cut him off, lifting her hands in surrender. “You just make it so easy sometimes.”

“Kyoko.”

“Ren,” she matched his half whiny, half scolding tone.

She leaned against his arm, by way of a silent apology. Her shoulders were hunched up around her ears and her eyes looking intently at her feet. She bobbed her head slightly from side to side twice before looking off into the distance.

“Besides, it’s kind of nice to get rescued every once in a while.”

All of his indignant resolve melted into a puddle at his feet with those words. They walked along in silence for a few more blocks.

“You know how uncomfortable this curse makes me,” he said finally in a quieter, softer voice. “I just don’t like it when I feel like you’re taking advantage of it. Particularly because the of the whole reason I was cursed in the first place.”

Kyoko stopped walking and looked up at him with wide eyes.

“I’m a terrible person,” her voice was full of the tears her eyes hinted at. “I’m sorry if I ever caused you to feel that way and I promise I’ll never call on you again. Maybe Kanae or Chiori can help me if I need something next time. Or I can be a big girl and handle it myself.”

Ren shook his head

“No, I should apologize too,” he admitted. “I’m not the easiest person to befriend or live with and I really appreciate you trying to be considerate of my situation when you don’t have to be. Being immune to the effects of my curse doesn’t obligate you at all, but I’m glad that you’re understanding anyway.”

She smiled up at him and it did dangerous things to his insides, but he could only smile back. They started walking again and their apartment building came into view once they rounded the corner. Kyoko was always nice enough to take the stairs up to their fifth floor residence when they were together, knowing his dislike of being around others in the elevator. It wasn’t until they reached the bottom of the stairwell that they noticed they’d held hands the entire way home.

Both faces bore an intense flush as they slowly pulled away from each other to begin their ascent. A nervous silence created a barrier between them all the way to their front door and into the entryway. They bid each other good night, each fumbling over their words before retreating to the sanctuary of their own rooms.

True to her word, Kyoko did not call or text him for over two months unless it was to let him know she was heading back to the apartment or to ask if he needed anything at the grocery store. He found himself checking his messages much quicker than usual on the off chance that she _did_ have an emergency. Still, he got nothing but her usual friendly reminders or the occasional quick questions.

Her behavior around him in person hadn’t really changed much either. They still had their movie nights and he would still cook the only pasta dish he was capable of making without burning down the kitchen. She still yelled at him through his bedroom door to get up every morning before she left for work. However, the fact that her eyes would linger on him a bit longer than they normally would didn’t escape him, neither did the fact that her expression would turn to one of pensive sadness as soon as she looked away. This was mostly because he had been doing the exact same thing.

It was late in the afternoon when his phone rang that day. The name on the screen told him it was Kyoko’s best friend calling. He stared at the name for a moment with a frown and the feeling of a lead weight settled in his stomach. Kanae never called him. Chiori didn’t either; Kyoko had warned both of them from trying to contact him, lest they be affected by his curse.

He answered the call, hesitant to speak. Thankfully, Kanae stopped him before he could start.

“Shut up and listen. Do you know about that guy that Kyoko kinda-sorta-but-not-really dated before he left her for someone else? Well he’s been coming to her office lately and I thought you should know because I’m sure she hasn’t told you. If you have questions, you can text me,” her words were urgent and fast and she hung up as soon as she was done with no farewell.

Ren immediately pulled her number back up on his phone and sent her a message.

_“You said ‘lately.’ How long has this been going on?”_

**_“Almost two weeks from what I’ve heard.”_ **

_“She didn’t tell you either?”_

**_“Nope, I only just heard about it from one of her coworkers today.”_ **

_“What about Chiori?”_

**_“She was just as clueless as the rest of us.”_ **

Ren scratched behind his ear while he pondered how to reply. Kyoko seemed to be keeping it a secret from everyone for some reason. But, what could that reason be?

_“Is it because they’re getting back together? Is she embarrassed?”_

That must be it. She had a bit of a complicated past with that person and she was probably feeling self-conscious about wanting to reconcile with them. Though, the fact that she hadn’t even talked to Kanae about it bothered him more than the thought of Kyoko being in a relationship.

**_“I don’t think that’s the case. From the way her coworker described it, it sounded like he was harassing her. Coming by when she arrives in the morning or when she leaves for the day. That sort of thing. But it seems like she’s not anticipating or encouraging his visits.”_ **

Well, that was even stranger. And about as infuriating as it was relieving. A groan escaped his lips that sounded almost like a growl.

_“Why do you think she hasn’t told any of us about this?”_

**_“Well, you know Kyoko. She has always tried to solve her problems on her own.”_ **

_“Always? Up until two months ago, she was getting me to help solve them for her.”_

**_“I don’t know what to say, pretty boy, other than you’re a special case.”_ **

A special case? What exactly did she mean by that? Against his better judgement, he ignored the issue of Kyoko’s unwanted visitor in favor of seeking answers.

 _“Care to explain???”_ _  
_

**_“Sorry, I don’t have the time or the desire to get into that with you. I wanted you to be aware of the situation since you’re probably the best person to deal with it. Good luck!”_ **

_“Wait, what?!”_

He received no further messages from Kanae after that, though he wasn’t surprised. Checking the time, he exited that conversation and opened the most recent messages from Kyoko. Judging by her texts from the past couple of days, if he was lucky, he probably had about another half hour before she was finished with work. Before he could think about it any harder or try to talk himself out of it, he grabbed his keys and ran out the door. He made it all the way to the train station before he noticed he’d left the apartment wearing only an old pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

It was an agonizing fifteen minute train ride.

He managed to shake off the majority of his impromptu fan club with a few roundabout twists and turns and arrived at Kyoko’s office building at the same time he received her message letting him know she was on her way back. After his harrowing subway experience, he was less than enthusiastic about waltzing into what was likely to be a busy lobby only to be mobbed once more. Instead, he found a secluded bench beside a few tiny, artfully arranged trees that were probably put there by some landscaper who thought it would make the mostly steel and glass building look more ‘organic’. There he remained, on the lookout for the familiar head of short copper hair.

She appeared shortly after he’d settled into his hiding space, followed closely by a man he’d only seen in mangled pictures discarded in the trash bin in their kitchen. Kyoko seemed to be focused on not paying him any attention. For the most part, it was working and he watched her take purposeful strides in the direction of the train station. He decided that, if she kept it up and he backed off before she made it to the end of the block, he wouldn’t interfere. This was her personal issue, after all.

Of course, that was right about when the man must have said _something_. Something that made Kyoko stop and sharply turn around and glare at him with a hatred he’d never seen on her face before. The man’s name escaped her lips with a furious hiss and she marched over to where he stood before jabbing a finger in his face. That face, Ren noted, was now smiling in triumph and his stomach turned with disgust. He was baiting her just to get her attention.

Well, it was now or never.

He walked across the paved courtyard in front of the building to where the now-arguing pair stood. As he got closer, he could hear snippets of their conversation until he was able to make out a full sentence.

“I told you I don’t have time to waste on you today. I have to get home,” she insisted before her voice got much quieter. “Someone’s expecting me.”

“Actually, I decided to surprise you today.”

Ren appeared beside them with a dazzling grin, looking intently at Kyoko and seemingly unaware of the suddenly entranced group of people gathered around him (though, if one looked closely enough, they could spot the tension in his shoulders). She gasped and nearly jumped out of her own skin at the sight of him. His smile only widened and he reached out to wrap his hand around hers and began to lead her away from the man still gaping in muted awe, his attention dragged from the woman he’d set on antagonizing to the person who interrupted him.

The entire journey back to their apartment was quiet save for the loud stares and even louder murmurs from the overly-excited—and overly-amorous—onlookers who surrounded them.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” she said once they were together in their kitchen.

Her voice held no malice or attitude, it was a soft-spoken statement of fact.

“You are correct,” he agreed. “Your best friend did.”

Kyoko groaned, shrinking in on herself. “I should’ve known she’d find out sooner or later. But, I don’t get why she went to you about it.”

“According to her, I’m a ‘special case’ when it comes to helping you since you never let anyone else do it,” he frowned at her. “Kyoko, if you needed my help that much, why didn’t you just tell me?”

She shrunk further, trying to make herself as small as possible.

“Because I wasn’t going to guilt you into something that clearly made you uncomfortable.”

“But you didn’t have to lie to me about it,” he insisted. “We could’ve figured something out and gotten Kanae and Chiori involved too.”

She shook her head, but refused to look at him. “I only wanted you.”

He didn’t know what to say to that.

“I first started it to see if I could coax you out of leaving the apartment. You were always cooped up in there, afraid go anywhere because you were afraid of yourself,” she sighed, her shoulders sloping downward. “Then I kept doing it because I liked having you there. Whenever things got stressful, I could call on you and I felt comforted… safe. Soon, I just couldn’t stop myself.”

“Kyoko…” Ren hesitated, licking his lips to buy a scant extra second of time. “What are you saying?”

He watched her suck in a shaky breath and clasp her hands together. She finally met her eyes with his, but only for the briefest moment.

“I’m saying that I really like being around you. A lot. And I didn’t know how to tell you without you thinking that it was because I was no longer immune to your curse, but it’s not,” she maintained in a determined voice. “I know it’s not. I’m not like _them._ ”

Ren sat down at the nearby bar stool they’d set up along one of the higher counters in the kitchen. He exhaled a long breath and scraped his fingers through his hair before letting the hand fall to his lap with a plop.

“I became like this because I habitually used my charm and my looks to get whatever I wanted,” he looked down at his hands as he spoke. “I just happened to upset a man who had the means to make a curse possible.”

“And he told you that, because you could only love yourself superficially, you would be forced to live a life where everyone became entranced by you for the way you looked, whether you wanted it or not,” Kyoko finished the story for him. “I already know this, Ren. Why are you telling me again?”

“Because there’s another part to the story I never told you,” he looked up at her, his eyes searching hers. “He said the curse would only end when I fell for the one who saw me for who I was and loved me anyway. I’m sure you can figure out why I couldn’t tell you about that.”

Kyoko laced her fingers together and pulled them apart over and over again. She looked up at the ceiling, blinking several times before looking back at him.

“I think it’s my turn to ask now. What are you saying?”

Her words came out only just above a whisper and he smiled in spite of himself.

“I’m saying that I also really like being around you. A lot.”

* * *

 

 **EPILOGUE? BONUS SCENE?  
** **I don’t know what it is but you can have it. Enjoy:**

They really needed to stop, the edge of the countertop was digging into her back and she knew it was going to result in at least a few hours of soreness afterwards. Still, she really couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Luckily, or not, Ren must have had the same idea and pulled back just enough to look at her properly. Her resulting sigh was more content than it was disappointed.

“Should we stop?” he asked and his eyes darted to the time displayed on the microwave. “It’s been almost five minutes already. You can’t be comfortable like that.”

Kyoko’s eyelids were heavy and she felt, overall, quite sluggish. Still, she turned to look over her shoulder, confirming that he was correct.

“Huh, so it has,” she sounded neither bothered nor shocked by that information.

“I wonder if the curse has lifted.”

She looked back at him, tilting her head in curiosity.

“You think hugging in a kitchen for five minutes was all it took?”

“We confessed our feelings too,” he added, trying to sound affronted but failing. “Also that was a solid five minutes of some pretty intense hugging, you know. Words were spoken, backs were rubbed. Don’t cheapen this.”

A laugh she was helpless to stop bubbled out of her and she indulged it.

“Do you want to go out and check?

He appeared to think seriously about his answer for a bit, his brow wrinkled and his bottom lip was pushed out. Rather than speak, the arms he already had wrapped around her waist tightened just enough to pull her a little closer.

“I’ve spent so many years refusing to go out in public. Why start now?”

She laughed again. “Baby steps?”

“Something like that,” he shrugged. “I have time. No need to do everything all at once.”

“Oh absolutely,” she patronized him, reaching one hand up to pat the top of his head. “We’ll take it as slowly as you need to. Maybe in a month we’ll have moved on to cuddling or, if I may be so brash, even _kissing_.”

Kyoko made it sound so scandalous that they both dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“Actually, I don’t mind if we accelerate that particular part of my rehabilitation.”

She hummed in thought and a smirk played on her lips. “I had a feeling you’d say that. I also have the feeling of this counter giving me a backache. Care to do something about that?”

He pulled her even closer and curled forward to rest his head on her shoulder. His breath was warm against her ear.

“It would be my pleasure.”

Kyoko clicked her tongue in mock exasperation, “Such a charmer.”

His resulting laugh shook them both from head to toe.

“Guilty as charged.”

 

**\- END -**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DO I LIKE CURSING POOR REN OR SOMETHING? Yes, yes I do. You know how some people will put the back of their hand to their forehead and sarcastically declare “Why was I curse with such beauty?” Well, guess what, it’s an actual curse now.
> 
> I feel like there’s probably some myth or legend about this exact situation somewhere and, subconsciously, I’ve both remembered and forgotten it. If you happen to know a myth/legend this story could be based on, let me know in a review!
> 
> Well, I guess that’s it for Ren x Kyoko Week. I hope you’ve had as much fun as I have and, hopefully, I’ll see you for this again next year!
> 
> AUTHOR OUT!


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